Disclaimer Time: I checked behind the couch, and there were no copyright papers. It turns out that I don't own and of J.K. Rowling's work!
She was avoiding him. No; it was more than that. She was actually hiding from him.
Really, Draco found this whole thing a little absurd. Yes, it was embarrassing to be found wrapped around someone, but it wasn't like they were worst enemies or anything. In fact, when compared to most people in his life, Draco found that he got on with Hermione rather well. When they weren't arguing, of course.
And who cared if people gossiped? Draco couldn't think of a more harmless rumor. It wasn't as if anyone actually believed that they had feelings for each other. Aside from Theo, who was probably clinically insane, and Hannah, who was a hopeless romantic, everyone appeared to have accepted the feeble excuse Granger had made about falling asleep during a late night study session. They were the two best students, after all.
But he wasn't exactly sure how she had managed to get people to believe that they had just happened to fall asleep in each other's arms.
Maybe she was just denying the whole thing.
He would have asked her himself, except; ah, yes. She was avoiding him. Like the plague, actually. It was a bit astonishing that anyone could make themselves that scarce, but she had managed to stay almost invisible. Except for classes and meals, half of which she was skipping (the meals, not the classes: she was Hermione Granger after all), she seemed to have vanished entirely. During those times when they were forced together, she would deliberately avoid him, ignoring every look that went her way and practically running out the door when class was dismissed.
The sleep was terrible. He woke in his usual fits, but now they seemed even more unbearable. Draco was having Granger withdrawals.
She had snuck in to see him the first night, peeking her head around the common room door, as he sat staring blankly at the fire. He had seen her shadow on the wall and turned, but she had disappeared before he could catch her eye.
It was just so unfair that she held the power of a good night's rest in her hands, and she wouldn't even look at him. He stopped bothering to cover the dark circles under his eyes, hoping that she would take pity on him, but she only hid more, now barely coming down for dinner, always sitting with the Weaselette.
It had been four days and Draco had reached his breaking point.
Today, McGonagall was going to hold a meeting for the eighth years, and Draco was going to plan a meeting of his own. Granger could only run for so long. He wanted some answers, and if cornering her was the only way to get them, he would do it.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Hermione curled up on her favorite window-seat in the library, clutching her bag to her chest. Outside, the boys were playing a pick-up quidditch game. They whizzed by the window, whooping in the late summer air. She had deliberately avoided the common room after supper, assuming that Draco would be there. Now it seemed she hadn't needed to worry.
Just thinking about him made her face flame. How could she have let herself into such a compromising position?
Everywhere Hermione went, eyes followed. It didn't help that the eighth years had class together. No matter where she was, Malfoy somehow managed to pop up. It was infuriating.
Hermione was used to scandal, and although it was aggravating to be followed by whispers, she knew they would die down soon enough.
She was more embarrassed by her own reaction.
Why had she run?
Of all the ridiculous, cowardly things to have done, Hermione had chosen to scurry for the hills. It was rather hard to swallow the fact that Hermione Granger, war hero and idol of millions, had bolted at the first moment of embarrassment. She had run from a boy. She had run from Draco Malfoy.
The realization that she was still running from him colored her cheeks again.
Ginny had been a useful distraction, until she discovered what exactly Hermione was doing. Then she had dragged the brunette up to the Gryffindor dormitory for a good old-fashioned discussion. Hermione had barely managed to settle onto Ginny's bed when the redhead had plopped next to her and pierced her with a determined stare.
"Talk," she had snapped, and Hermione had groaned in frustration, burying her face in the comforter.
"There's nothing to say, Gin."
"Hermione Granger! There are rumors streaming in everywhere. The least imaginative ones involved you and Malfoy caught spooning in your common room!" Ginny patted her friend's head as muffled oaths were emitted from the comforter, "I'll spare you the more colorful tales. In any case, you've clearly a reason to be embarrassed, but hiding from him? That's a bit childish, isn't it?"
Hermione scowled and raised her head enough to be heard, "well what would you have me do, Gin? I don't know what to say to him!"
"Then let him talk! Or better yet, tell him the truth."
Hermione sat up, scowling, "what truth? Should I tell him that I wish I'd never seen him at all? Should I tell him I wish I'd left him there? Do you know what he was doing before I came into the common room, Ginny? He was crying! How am I supposed to look someone in the face and tell him that I wish I hadn't comforted him? What sort of person would that make me?"
Ginny sat quietly until her friend had finished, "you do wish you hadn't comforted him, though?"
"Of course I wish I hadn't! He's Draco Malfoy! I've spent most of my childhood wishing he would cry! He's certainly made me cry enough for the both of us, but then it actually happened, he was actually crying, and I wasn't glad at all! How is it that the one thing I've wanted, the one justice I've been craving, could leave me so empty? I saw him the way I'd always wanted to see him, and I just felt sorry for him! Here I am, finally able to watch him crumple the way I've always wanted him to, and I pick him back up again! I helped him, Ginny!" she was up and pacing now, eyes shining angrily.
"That makes you a good person, Hermione. That makes you a Gryffindor," said Ginny gently.
"I don't want to be a good person to him! He doesn't deserve that!" snarled Hermione, stalking to the window.
"Everyone deserves that Hermione, even Malfoy," the redhead insisted.
"He's a Death Eater, Ginny!" Hermione snapped.
Her friend's voice was tight, "he's also human."
"And a murderer!" Hermione's eyes welled in angry tears, but she refused to let them fall, "he told me himself. He's a killer."
Ginny's eyes flashed and she nearly shouted, "he's not just a killer, Hermione! Everyone seems to think he's heartless, but he's kinder than you all know!"
Hermione went silent, and her friend's words echoed through the room.
Ginny rubbed her eyes in frustration and sat heavily on the bed, "I just wish you would let him be human Hermione. Malfoy might not have made good decisions, but they weren't all as bad as you seem to think. He has clearly shown himself to be capable of growth because the ministry let him go without much punishment. They think he can have better behavior, and I am inclined to believe them. I don't think he's any less of a prat, but I also don't think he's any more than a man. He's just human."
Quietly settling alongside her friend, Hermione patted the girl's arm, "I'm sorry, Ginny. You're right. But Gin, be straight with me here. What happened between you two?"
Ginny tucked her feet under her, and stared at the floor, "I'm not really supposed to say."
"Since when have you followed the rules, Miss. Weasley?"
Ginny's eyes flashed slightly, "Since I'm staying quiet for other people's safety!"
"Oh, Gin, I'm sorry! I didn't know," Hermione frowned.
The redhead shook her head and faced her friend, "Of course you didn't Hermione. You couldn't have. Just believe me when I say that Draco has been more heroic than you realize."
"I don't know if I can believe that, to be honest," Hermione ducked her head.
Ginny sighed resolutely, "If you promise not to tell…"
Her friend nodded hopefully.
Gin bit her lip and then her eyes met the brunette's, "he saved Harry's life, Hermione, and…he saved mine too."
It was proving impossible to sort out her thoughts, and Hermione gathered her books in irritation. McGonagall was holding the meeting for eighth years, and it was time to face her fears. There was no hiding from Malfoy now, not that she had much of a choice either way. Ginny had officially kicked her from the Gryffindor table and ordered her to make peace. If she didn't want to starve (or spend every meal in kitchens), Hermione would have to talk to him.
Her fellow eighth years appeared to have come to a similar consensus. Despite having entered later than most of the group, Hermione was somehow jostled into the middle of them, directly next to the person she had hoped to avoid.
"Hermione," he said cordially, eyes taking in her expression warily.
"Malfoy," her tone was gentle, if a bit stiff.
For a moment, he looked downcast, but then he smirked, "Back to Malfoy now, are we? I liked Draco so much better."
Next to him, Nott snorted loudly, his face turning red in an effort to hold back his laughter. Hermione colored, and Draco smiled to himself.
McGonagall saved Hermione from a retort then, sweeping into the room and beginning at once.
"Hello again, everyone. I trust that your first days here have been pleasant," she smiled briskly at the room.
"Oh, they have been very pleasant," snickered Nott, "for some more than others."
McGonagall frowned as Mandy elbowed him heavily in the ribs, but continued, "I'm sure that the rest of the school year will prove to be as exciting as these first few days have been."
Hermione certainly hoped not.
"As promised, we have come here today to discuss the privileges of your seniority. You are Hogwarts' first and only eighth years, and you will be the first to experience the new learning opportunities Hogwarts has to offer. In order to prepare students for the jobs that they desire, we will be establishing programs that will provide hands-on experience to students and educate them in the fields that they are most fit for. This will count as your first year of apprenticeship, so you will not be behind your previous classmates as they start on the next step of adulthood. For some of you, this will be the stepping-stone for the careers you desire. For others, this will be a window into the world you could live in when you graduate. The choice is yours to make."
Everyone had stopped shuffling now, and Hermione could taste the excitement on the air, although it may have just been her own.
McGonagall continued, "As this is our first year of the program, you will be the people who shape what it will become. You will each get to decide which field most interests you, and we will work with you to create the program that you and future generations will use. Some of you will stay at Hogwarts for your training, while others will be assigned to workers outside of the grounds. The ministry has agreed to partner us in this endeavor. We are all excited for the new witches and wizards that will create and shape this program."
Everyone was thrilled at the prospect, but their headmistress was far from finished, "additionally, student teaching opportunities will now be available to those who wish to do so. We will have openings available for sign up at the end of the week. Please talk to your teachers if there is a class that interests you, even if it is not on the list. I am sure that something can be arranged. Are there any questions?"
"What about going to Hogsmede?" Nott asked without bothering to raise his hand.
"You are all legal adults, which means that you will be allowed to leave the grounds whenever you please. However, please understand that the gates close at sunset and open at sunrise. There are no exceptions," McGonagall eyed them sternly.
"And we can help coach flying?" piped up Seamus.
"That will be an option for student teaching. Feel free to get more information from Madame Hooch and sign up at the end of the week. Any further questions?" McGonagall was clearly finished, and when no hands lifted she nodded shortly, "Very well. Have a wonderful semester, eighth years. I am sure that you will do very well."
The headmistress dismissed them with a wave before hurrying away herself. Hermione moved to follow her classmates, but a hand caught her elbow and she was forced to a stop.
"Listen, Granger," he began, once the room had cleared.
"No, Malfoy, you listen. I don't know what you're on about, but this has got to stop. Every time I turn around, here you are, accosting me again!" she yanked her elbow from his grasp and crossed her arms with a huff.
He scowled at her, "well, I wouldn't feel the need to come up to you if you would just listen for a bloody second!"
Hermione sighed and then met his gaze resolutely, "you're right Malfoy. I'll listen now, if you'd like."
The dragon ran a hand through his hair, "Yes, I would like that actually. About the other night…"
"I'm really sorry about that. I shouldn't have let that happen."
"Granger," he smirked at her, "let me finish, please."
The light tone surprised her and she blushed, "sorry."
"I just wanted to thank you. It's been a long time since anyone listened, is all. And it was…nice. To have someone to talk to, I mean," he rubbed his neck and scowled as the words jumped on top of each other.
Hermione smiled tightly, "it's alright, Malfoy. I'm glad I could be of service."
"Well, it was bloody kind of you to be of service, or, you know…" his words were failing him, clearly; they stood in silence for a moment and then he muttered, "just…thanks is all."
Hermione brushed aside his thank you and smiled, "it's really no trouble, but…if you don't mind my asking, what are you going to do? About your father, I mean?"
He stiffened slightly, and she wished the words back in an instant, "what do you mean?"
"I mean, are you going to go see him? Before…you know…" Hermione looked away.
His voice was sharp, "I don't see how it makes a difference."
Hermione winced at his words, her own father's image swirling in her head. All at once, she wished she had kept a picture, an old shirt, anything. Draco was a fool.
"Of course it makes a difference!" she snapped, "he's your father!"
Malfoy's eyes were steel, "you know nothing about my family, Granger. Don't pretend to understand us."
"Even if I didn't know your family, I would know that you should see your father. This is your last chance, Draco. Don't foul it up because of your own miserable self-preservation," she didn't care if it was a rabbit hole, she just dove onward, "you may not have been strong in the past, but you can be there for him now. Show him how courageous his son truly is! Give him that, at least."
His laugh was loud and incredulous, "you think I've been a coward have you? Of course you do! I haven't lived up to your pristine little hero act and so that makes me a coward. I did everything for that man! I gave up every inch of happiness I knew in order to preserve his. When he faltered, I held him up. When he was in danger, I gave him my life. My acts may not be heroic, but I am not a coward. I am his loyal son. My entire life has been based on his preservation. I have done nothing that has not been for him. But what do you know of loyalty? While I quit school to protect my kin, where were you? Off keeping those you loved safe? No, you were off on a fool's errand, trying to rescue the bloody world."
Hermione felt the tears prick at her eyes but she bit back, "and I did, didn't I? I saved everyone while you just enabled your evil family."
"Evil, eh?" his voice was quiet, but she had never seen him more furious, "well, at least I know what you think of me, just one more murderer in the pack of devils. And you, the little angel, come to save the day. Well, guess what, Mudblood? While you were off saving the world, we were watching our families die. While you were off preaching your goodness and light, we were watching our relationships topple around us and our homes crumble inwards. But you don't care about your family, do you? It doesn't matter if there's one less filthy mudblood in the world, there'll always be another to take its place. Well good for you, Granger. You've gotten your bloody wish. The world is back to its bloody goodness and light. Who cares whose parents are gone in the process?"
Hermione just stared at him, wide-eyed. For a moment, it looked as though he had not meant it, but then his eyes grew cold.
"Go save someone else, Granger," he spat, turning away just as the first tear slid down her cheek.
She watched the door slam behind him and stared at the spot where he had been.
For a moment, Hermione was silent, and then she whispered, "if only I could save them."
With that the sob broke forth from her chest, and she slumped to the ground in grief.